Doesn't Come Free
by jhewleigh
Summary: Ryles McAlester loves two things in the world: drumming, and his best friend, Rowan Hinds. But when Rowan gets a boyfriend and begins to spend less time with the line, will he realize that the things that are most important in life aren't free?
1. Chapter 1: Congratulations

"Hey Hinds, congrats on snare." Rowan Hinds' smile lit up the bleak band room, and she bit her lip with a slight bouncing motion. She wanted to scream, to tell the world what she had done. Not only had she found a spot on the Stonewall High School Drumline, but she was going to be alongside her closest friend, Ryles McAlester for the next 6 months, nonstop.

Stonewall's Drumline was the most respected program in the school other than the band itself. They competed nationally, gaining titles and the greatest fame a high school student could get outside of Hollywood. It was a dream come true, and for Rowan, it was one step closer to joining a Drum Corp. She had been in the pit since she was a freshman, but there was nothing with as much glory as being on a line.

"You should pretend I am running around in an excited circle," she said jokingly, accepting the snare sticks from Ryles'.

No one noticed their exchange, despite the obvious look of enthusiasm on her face. The band room was buzzing with results from other auditions, and it would take a few more minutes before the rest of the band would consider the placements of their peers. For a brief moment, she wondered who had taken the new assistant Drum Major spot, since their friend John was now the head major, but even then, that seemed less important than a place on the line.

He winked at her. "Just don't get too cocky. You know I can't do you any favors," the section leader pointed out as he wrapped a sturdy arm around her shoulder, "even if you are my girl."

He never meant that statement literally. Although, through the years of their friendship, Rowan had developed a slight crush on Ryles, it was never mutual, and she was sure that she had grown out of it. The newly instated drummer frowned, casually shrugging off his arm to toss her bag onto her shoulder.

Ryles was everything she wasn't. He was the type that girls fawned over, and yet it never went to his head. It was impossible to not find him rather charming; he was intelligent and opinionated, but fiercely loyal. And he had an unmatched talent with sticks in his hands. But despite that, he had been her best friend for as long as she could remember.

"I know, I know," she pushed on the door to find a quiet place to call for a ride home, but Ryles caught her hand, glancing at her nervously.

"Hey Hinds I wanted to—"

"Rowan?" a voice called from behind her, and she pulled away from Ryles' grasp. Tom Henderson, no doubt this year's trumpet section leader, stood expectantly across the room. "I heard the good news!"

She smiled, nodding as she wondered why he had taken notice on her placement. Tom was the band director's son, and he had the talent to match the title. No one ever questioned the lack of bias behind his high chair rankings; he could blow you out of the water with just a trumpet in his hand.

Rowan attended homecoming with him her freshman year, and since then she had always felt like his eyes were on her. Ryles was always more protective of her when Tom came around, and she figured that Ryles assumed something had gone wrong at the dance. It had actually been a good time, but usually Ryles made a joke about Tom before she could ever relay that to him.

"So I'm gonna guess and say you got the trumpet position?" she spoke almost as if it were just a statement rather than a question. "I'm not sure if I should be worried about you and Ryles spending so much time together, as section leaders and all. It might turn into disaster." Rowan and Tom laughed, but Ryles crossed his arms, looking bothered by her joke.

Regardless, it wasn't a lie. Ryles and Tom had never been extraordinarily close, but when they got together, havoc was guaranteed to take over. The two boys had a similar taste in pranks and practical jokes, and for causing explosions with household objects. If Mr. Henderson hadn't been Tom's father, he and Ryles probably would have gotten into a lot of trouble with the stink bomb that had accidentally exploded in the ceiling, bursting a pipe. Rowan had never quite understood how Ryles crafted this stuff, and how it always managed to 'accidentally' falter.

"I'm afraid my dangerous days are over… Unfortunately, society tends to frown upon that kind of behavior. I have to start looking good for college, you know?"

Of course she knew, but she also knew that college was never going to stop Ryles. Tom was bright, but the drummer, who was obviously borderline genius, outranked him in the class. Ryles depended solely on the fact that he was intelligent, and that he was a good drummer. And as much as teachers wanted to tell him that he would have to grow up, they knew that he could succeed in life with or without homemade Dran-O bombs.

"Right… Maybe I will get around to that, too. Growing up, I mean," Rowan stated, laughing at her own childishness. Ryles for had inspired her so long that she never took time to notice how immature she could be.

They were all going to be seniors, but Rowan didn't feel like she was old enough or smart enough. It seemed like her high school adventure had just begun a few days before, but now it was suddenly entering its final year.

Tom laughed, reaching out to touch her arm, causing a faint redness to come to her cheeks. "Anyways, congratulations again on the line. That's pretty awesome. I don't see how you guys do all of that stick stuff. I'll just stay with the buttons, I guess," he blabbered on, holding up his trumpet to press the keys. She was gathering herself to say thanks, but before she could respond, he began again, scratching his neck. "So I was thinking… maybe… we could go—"

She felt Ryles pull her towards him, his hand on hers once again. "Hinds, we really need to go now." Tom exchanged looks with Ryles, completely cut off and dumbfounded.

Rowan shot her best friend a ponderous look, not knowing what he was talking about. They never had any plans to go anywhere. "Y-yeah," she stuttered, taking a step away. "I'll talk to you later Tom." Tom smiled; nodding with an unsure wave as the center snare dragged her off.

Turning away, Ryles and Rowan walked towards the door that opened up to the student parking lot. "What was that?" she inquired curiously, wondering what had caused his untimely entrance into the conversation. "Tom was trying to say something."

He rolled his eyes. _Of course he was_. But Ryles was going to let Rowan's oblivious nature keep him out of trouble this time. "Rule number one. You're in the drumline, you don't need to call your mom to get rides home anymore."

Chivalrously, Ryles opened the door to his black jeep, offering out a hand to help Rowan climb up into the seat. Ryles and his dad took the jeep on all sorts of terrain, so it was built tall, and out of reach of Rowan's 5'5" legs. Just as she shut the door, the other drummer hopped in next to her, giving the jeep a slight bounce as he turned the key in the ignition.

"So," he said as he pushed his aviators down from his head, "what's the deal with Tom?"

She cocked her head to the side, pushing her wind-bound hair from her face. "How could you tell? Was I being that obvious?"

Ryles took that hit hard, but trying to hide it in his face. He could tell that Tom showed particular interest in his best friend, but he had no idea that she still held onto those feelings from freshman year. _That's what she was implying, right?_ "I didn't… I mean… I thought that was back when we were freshman."

He looked over, seeing her fidget with her thumbs; her head bowed slightly. "I don't know… This whole past week at camp he just—"

Ryles immediately cut her off, knowing what she was going to say. He had seen Tom paying particular attention to her all week, doing little kind gestures to get her attention. "You're not saying that carrying your music stand and taking your trash is the way to your heart…?"

She looked slightly offended, but drew her eyes to slits in consideration of his comment. "Well, no… but… I thought that was sweet. Do you think I should talk to him?"

"Well obviously he's interested," she raised her eyebrow at him. "I mean, I don't think he'd just go out of his way like that for no reason."

"Are you sure? Did he say anything?"

He shook his head, "I don't really talk to Tom. And even if I did, I'm sure he wouldn't tell me about _this_, because he'd bet I'd want to beat the crap out of him if he went near you. But it's obvious, really."

"So what do you think…?" Rowan genuinely wanted his opinion, and that pained him. As he tried to piece together some sort of response, he pulled into her driveway, leaving his hands on the wheel and staring at it discontentedly.

If he said what he thought, she would not have a moment to worry about Tom. He peered at Rowan from behind his sunglasses, seeing how the sun reflected off the brown streaks of her hair. In the most firm opposite of cliché, she was a work of art, and Ryles wanted nothing more than to finally admit everything he had been holding back for so long.

But he wouldn't trouble her like that. He knew she would feel guilty, and he couldn't get himself to be okay with that. "I think you should go for it."

She smiled, leaning forward to give him a hug, but planting her lips on his cheek for a brief second before jumping out of his jeep. "Thanks!"

He watched to make sure she got inside safely, but then took in a deep sigh and rested his head on the steering wheel, avoiding the horn. Rowan could not even begin to notice how many male eyes followed her, but at the end of the day, she'd always tell him that his friendship mattered most.

Ryles couldn't tell himself when, but at some point in their unmarked companionship, he had fallen completely in love with her. Rowan was clumsy, and she worried too much, but she was perfect. And as he rapidly approached his senior year, his father began to speak more frequently of his future. But Ryles was never embarrassed nor scared to admit that no matter how far he went with drumming, he had no future, if Rowan wasn't in it.

His cheek burned, and he knew that as long as he was too afraid of scaring her away, Ryles had no future.

* * *

Ohhh, don't you just love boys that know what they want? Anyways, there's chapter one! This should prove to be pretty interesting; who do you like better? Ryles? Tom? If you're skeptical, trust me, you'll get plenty of chances in the future to decide who is better for Rowan! R&R!


	2. Chapter 2: Running in Circles

_So I published this story today, but I already have a bit of it written. I figured I would go ahead and put the first two chapters (the ones that are the "most" complete) before I head off to drum major camp on Saturday. Who knows, maybe it'll inspire me!_

* * *

"Welcome to week two of band camp! You all survived the auditions, I see." Jake, the head Drum Major, announced excitedly as he wheeled out his metal podium. Those were the words that meant you still had a week of pure hell. At the end it never seems as bad, but it's natural for someone who has just walked out of hell, alive, to be optimistic.

A few groans spread across the parking lot, but Rowan grinned from ear to ear in spite of herself. No longer would she stay inside for the majority of camp, banging away on the marimba, missing out on the classic "band camp tans". She was going to get the full experience.

Ryles nudged her, eyeing her slightly. "Did you bring your sticks?" he muttered as the mass of band members walked to form a stretching circle. The immediate look of shock in Rowan's eyes was a definite answer, and he chuckled slightly. "I'm not going to ask how you forgot, so I expect that you won't ask how I knew you'd forget. I have an extra pair in my jeep. You can thank me later."

Thanking him included not a single complaint as she ran laps around the parking lot for not marching in a straight line. As hot and tired as she got, Rowan knew he was right in saying that she owed him. Ryles always kept up with the little details she always managed to forget, and without him she would have been running laps for sticks, on top of her lack of defined marching.

Rowan took in a deep breath a she finished her most recently assigned lap, hunching over with the desire to throw up her wheaties from breakfast. She felt like she was getting beaten around for no reason; the guy in front of her kept messing up his counts, and yet she was called out.

Joining her spot back in the block just in time for the step off, Rowan was certain that she got it right. Her posture was strong, her feet in time, and she followed the commands correctly. A short delay preceded the sound of her best friend's voice, but it came just as it always did. "Your arms were not at good angles, Hinds. That's a—"

_Lap_. He was just about to say it, and the thought of it made Rowan start to puke. It was at least 100 degrees, and she had run lap, after lap, after lap, without water. But as if a God-sent savior, John called for lunch.

Although most of the band behaved sluggishly, she dashed inside with new-found energy, anxious to grab one of the few seats under the only "shade tree". Rowan and Ryles had sat under the same tree at lunch every day of their band careers, and she wasn't about to lose that right to freshman that didn't know any better. She wanted to be bitter about the laps he made her run, but she was still excited to carry on the tradition.

She heard the familiar creak of the band room door, and when she turned from her seat on the ground, expecting to see Ryles jogging towards her, it was Tom. After talking to Ryles about him, she didn't know how to act, or what to say. "Oh, hey… Have you seen Ryles? He always eats lunch here…"

Tom looked thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging. "Oh, yeah. Mr. Layne and Dad, er, Mr. Henderson are talking to him in the office."

She couldn't help but laugh; the way he referred to the percussion instructor would make it clear to anyone that he was an outsider to the line. "You can just call him 'Tim', you know. He hates being called 'Mr. Layne'… says it makes him feel old. But hey, take a seat. You don't just have to stand there. I could use some company anyways."

"Alright," he said before settling down on the ground. Rowan was afraid to admit that she didn't feel like talking much. She liked the company, but the situation with Ryles was bothering her. She didn't understand why he was acting so cruelly.

"Earth to Rowan," Tom said jokingly, waving his hand in front of her face. She blinked, and looked at him blankly. "What's wrong?"

"Well…"

"It's Ryles, isn't it? He's running you to death! I was sure that by lap six, your legs were going to fall off on their own."

She looked down at her legs, sighing quietly. "I think they did, I just passed out before I could see John glue them back on and get me back into the block…"

"Have you said anything to Ryles?"

"I'm not sure what I _would_ say…"

"Why do you want to be on the line, Rowan?"

She stared at him fascinatingly, "What?" She had never given it much thought; just assumed it was for Drum Corps. "I… I don't know. I just wanted to."

"So you went through the hell of learning snare, and marching, just because you wanted to?"

"I guess so…"

"Well, let me tell you something," he started, standing up like he was preparing to leave. "You can do better than that crap. If he's your friend, he'll listen."

"Maybe I just need you to talk to him for me!" she said jokingly, too scared to admit she would actually like that.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Rowan, I have to go eat, so I will see you around, okay? But don't worry about Ryles… you'll figure it out!"

She knew he was right; she shouldn't have to put up with maltreatment. But since he had been her friend for so long, Rowan knew that her section leader had a reason for what he was doing. She was just worried that it wouldn't be a very good one.

Within a minute, Ryles joined her. "So Hinds, what do you think so far?"

Rowan shrugged quietly, opening up her sandwich bag. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nerves. _Would Ryles get mad at her?_ "It's hard to say… I think I've run more laps than I have anything else," she explained nonchalantly, stretching her legs out in front of her.

Ryles frowned, "Yeah… about that," he turned to face her. "I don't want it to seem like I'm being extra hard on you, but it has to be like this for a while, just so no one thinks I'm playing favorites."

"Oh, it's the opposite of playing favorites," she assured sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Would it kill ya to lay off a little? I'm _not_ that bad of a marcher."

"Well," the center snare leaned against the tree, "I know… I'm sorry, Hinds. I was worried this would happen. If it were up to me, you would be drinking water from one of those little hats with straws, with servants fanning you every second of the day to prevent heatstroke, but unfortunately… it's not up to me. And I can't seem biased… I guess I thought that being extra hard on you would stop the line from getting upset."

"But what about the fact that I'm upset?" she said flatly, not ashamed of the fact that it bothered her.

Ryles looked at her with painful guilt in his eyes. "Hinds… I didn't mean to…"

"I know," she interrupted in order to prevent arguing. She didn't want to start that now. "You were just trying to do the right thing. It's okay, but can you just ease up… a little?"

He smiled, "I'll do my best. I'm sorry, again."

* * *

_Hmm... interesting. You guys are probably thinking, "Wow, Ryles is kind of a jerk." And I hate putting my own author-that-knows-what-is-going-to-happen-later bias into this, but I just love Ryles. He means well. Promise._


	3. Chapter 3: Water War '09

_So, drum major camp ended, so I'm home now and back in action. I felt like I'd welcome myself home by giving you all the next chapter. :)_

* * *

It had always been a tradition for the Stonewall marching band to host a water balloon fight at the conclusion of band camp. After the section leaders worked tirelessly to fill up a dozen or so tubs of balloons, everyone was getting pumped up for what they were calling WATER WAR '09.

When it hit 7 P.M., the band started to head towards the field. Rowan pulled on her ponytail holder, letting her dark hair fall past her shoulders. She felt mentally and physically prepared for this; especially the part where she got to dump water all over her best friend.

She felt like she was a part of the Battle of Thermopylae, and she was one of the vastly outnumbering Persian soldiers, preparing to encircle the enemy. The tubs of balloons were laying out along the sidelines, so you had to venture through the war to get to ammo if you ran out. Rowan looked up, seeing that Ryles, Tom, and Jake had something strapped to their backs, but she couldn't tell what it was.

Sarah, the guard captain, suddenly approached her, nearly pushing her out of the way. "Watch where you're standing, Rowdy," Rowan rolled her eyes, turning around to see her staring her down with a cold gaze. She didn't know what problem Sarah suddenly decided to have with her, but it was getting old. Fast.

"First of all, my name is Rowan. You've known me for five years; I'm sure you know that. Secondly, watch where _you're_ walking. I know you're bad with your footwork during guard practice," the gaze the guard captain had turned into a bloody stare, "but that doesn't mean you should run right into someone that's just standing there." She was surprised that Sarah didn't attack her at that moment, because she probably deserved it.

Mr. Henderson stepped onto the 50-yard-line silently, but everyone turned as though they heard him coming. "Welcome Warriors, to the annual band camp water balloon fight! There's one main rule: if you throw something that is not water, besides the balloons themselves, you get to run laps. Sound fun? Well, it's not, so don't try it. And that's laps until I tell you to stop," he added. The director was known for his sarcasm, but Rowan wasn't so sure that he was joking.

"On the whistle," the director stepped off the field, "get wet!" A few inappropriate giggles spread across the field, and they all received glares from their section leaders.

Suddenly, the whistle blew, and hundreds of band kids rushed to the field. As she ran towards a tub, Rowan realized that the drum major, trumpet, and drumline captains had really big Super Soakers. She felt like a nerd for knowing so, but they both held the biggest and most powerful water gun you could buy. She shook her head as she reached for two balloons, deciding that she spent too much time with her brothers.

As she turned around to find someone to hit, one of the clarinet players hit her on the shoulder with one of their balloons, and she could feel the cold water dripping down her body as she ran across the field.

The three boys were getting everyone soaked, and Mr. Henderson watched in amusement. It was his favorite idea of the three's creation, for usually it was something potentially dangerous. In the past they had used hot soup, yogurt, and peanut butter, which was a lawsuit waiting to happen, had someone been deathly allergic.

Rowan was laughing as she threw her second balloon, hitting her target square in the head. She was absolutely covered with water, like she had taken a shower with all of her clothes on.

"Hey Rowan!" she hadn't even turned around before recognizing the sound of Tom's voice, and a split second later she was dripping with water. She wiped her eyes dry, looked up with a fussed expression.

"That water is really… really cold," she said through chattered teeth. Tom winked at her before running off, and she decided to get revenge before the end of the fight.

She and Tom had hung out a lot during the second week of camp, and he had been great to her. He even went to get her food from McDonalds for lunch one day, since she wasn't allowed to leave the campus. But she couldn't help but notice Ryles watching her. She figured that he was just looking out for her, but she already had two older brothers of her own that could handle the protective role.

As the band carried on, Rowan stopped to admire the as it fell behind the bleachers. The grass seemed greener, and the smiling faces of the band kids seemed brighter. Ryles, seeing his easiest target yet standing and watching the sunset, ran up behind her, spraying any bystanders on the way. He chuckled to himself, pulling a smaller water pistol from his pocket, and sneakily approached her.

In one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around Rowan's neck, pressing the squirt gun against her head. "Don't move," he warned, his voice shaking slightly with laughter. He felt her quiver for a moment, until she realized that it was only the drummer, and that it wasn't a real gun that was touching her skin.

Rowan laughed, nearly expecting for him to take her captive for some kind of reward. "Go ahead, shoot me," she said dramatically, not even trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "I don't think it'd make a difference. I've already been hit so many times." He pulled the trigger on the little gun, and she felt the water spew out and tickle her scalp. She giggled, shaking her wet hair in his face.

She saw Tom running within reach of the water balloon in her hand, but her feet wouldn't follow where her mind was running. Ryles didn't move; she could tell from the breathing pulse on her neck that never went away. She felt the wind rush by her as her fellow band-mates ran about. Unfortunately, it never carried her away.

Ryles heard the drum major yell for him, and he turned his head to see Jake being chased by a horde of freshman. Just as he let go of Rowan's body and started to leave, she grabbed his collar. She got on her toes, close enough to hear his breathing, and held his gaze there for a moment.

He stared completely wide-eyed at her, as if he was waiting for her to act on a whim. His face flushed slightly, and she had to look just slightly beyond his eyes, enough that he couldn't tell, so she didn't do the same.

Letting go of his shirt, she pressed the balloon against his head, letting the water spill all over him. He stared at her, completely dumbfounded, as if he were still trying to collect what had just happened.

She burst out into laughter, seeing the terrible sight of her friend. Spitting out some water that had found its way into his mouth, he brushed his bangs aside, an almost malevolent look in his bright irises. He almost looked angry, but her worries of his aggravation were washed away when his frown turned into a light simper.

Thomas tucked away his pistol, reaching for his large Super Soaker. He pointed it right at Rowan, planning to get some revenge. She screamed through her proud chuckling, running into the midst of the crowd, and he followed suit.

It was like the survival of the fittest, and if you stopped in the middle of it all, you were going to get _wet_. Rowan dashed through, getting hit with numerous water balloons and quickly discarding any remaining pieces that were wound in her clothes and hair.

When she was in the clearing on the other side of the field, she saw Tom coming at her with a bucket of water he had probably stolen from one of the other band members. She stood in one place, knowing she had been defeated in this little game, and took her punishment calmly as Tom poured the water on her head.

Tossing the bucket to the side, Tom jokingly patted her wet head. From there he took off, throwing more water balloons at his band. Rowan would have liked to join him, except she could feel all of the cold water weighing her down, and she could barely move.

She was content with watching everyone else for a while, when suddenly Ryles ran up to her. "Hey Rowan, why aren't you playing anymore?"

The drummer player shivered, crossing her arms to keep warm. "I'm soaked, and I can't move," she explained jokingly.

"Are you sure you don't want to come back in?"

"Oh don't worry about me, I don't plan on quitting permanently. I'm just waiting to dry off… at least a little bit, anyway."

"All right, just remember, we need ya out there! It's a war zone!" he smiled, waving as he ran back out onto the field. She waved awkwardly, just lifting the part of her arm past her elbow. Staying warm was worth looking stupid, and that she was certain about. Rowan was surprised that she could possibly be cold in the middle of summer, but by night it wasn't that hot, anyway. And the cold water didn't help her level of warmth, either.

She turned to watch Ryles, who was throwing the water-filled balloons like baseballs. Shrugging off the thought of his previous career in the sport, Rowan looked back towards the main crowd, and was disappointed to see Sarah and some of her friends running towards her. Rowan did her best to make her shivering figure look more like attitude rather than chills, but she was sure that the girls saw through the act.

"What do you want?" she asked, surprised she didn't stutter.

"Thomas has been hanging around you a lot lately. What's the deal with that?" Sarah listed the accusation with a snarling tone.

"_You've got to be kidding me,"_ she thought with annoyance. Drama queens were few in too many, but Rowan, unfortunately, knew too many. "No more than anyone else."

"Well just so you know," Sarah leaned in as her friends stood nearby, watching, "Thomas is mine. So stay away from him."

Honestly, Rowan wasn't completely sure how she felt about Tom. She liked him, but she figured that he didn't feel the same as he did when they were freshman. "And what if I don't?" She couldn't believe the words had escaped from her mouth. Unfortunately, she had no reaction time before Sarah pushed her.

As she felt herself falling back, it was as though her thoughts were moving three times as fast as time itself. She realized she was standing on a hill, meaning that she would have to start rolling at anytime. Almost instinctively, she let out a cry, getting the attention of most of the band.

All of the yelling and laughing stopped, and she could feel at least four hundred eyes on her as she went tumbling down the hill, each bump marking the spot of some kind of injury: scratch or bruise, before crashing against the fence that blocked the field from the bleachers.

She tried sitting up, but her entire body ached like she had been stabbed with a thousand knives. Instead of persevering through the pain, she didn't move, and she did her best to breathe as little as possible. Everything burned, but at least she no longer felt cold.

The band crowded at the edge of the field, right where she had been standing before Sarah shoved her. She felt liquid on her face, and it wasn't water.

Tom and Ryles pushed through the band, and Tom came down the hill quickly, before any one else got close enough to really see her face. He knelt next to her, helping her back up to her feet. Mr. Henderson rushed to see what the commotion was about, his mouth agape in shock at the sight of one of his drummers. "What in the world happened here? You look like you got in a Roman war zone!" she tried to smile as she recalled her thought about Thermopylae_, _but winced at the pain.

"She was running from me because I had a balloon, and she fell down," Rowan's head snapped up to see Sarah standing at the edge. That girl was one heck of a liar. She silently wished that someone would push _her_ down the hill, not choosing to retract the thought.

She couldn't get herself to call the guard captain a liar and be done with it, and she was mad at herself for not saying anything. Tom supported her weight fully, escorting her back up the hill. "I'm going to take her back to the band room. I don't think it's a good idea for her to stick around here."

Rowan sent the trumpet captain a look, and she couldn't help but watch him as he and his dad exchanged some words that she didn't hear.

"I'll come, too," she looked over to see Ryles stepping forward. She smiled, feeling fortunate that he wanted to help her, too. He grinned proudly, and starting coming down the hill.

"No," Tom barked, causing the drummer to step back, "you keep… _playing_. I can handle her."

"But Tom —" it was the first time Rowan tried to speak, but Ryles cut her off.

"No, it's all right, Hinds. I'll just check on you later, okay?" her best friend smiled, and that reassured her.

When they were more than halfway across the field, she heard Mr. Henderson call for the games to resume as they were. The band carried on as if nothing had happened, and Rowan wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good thing or a bad thing. "So," Tom started, sounding like he wanted to give an interrogation, "you _fell_, huh?"

Not wanting to explain it, she nodded. "Yeah... I wasn't watching where I was going." If he knew that Sarah pushed her, he would probably beat the girl to death.

By the time she thought about going anywhere in particular, she was climbing the steps to get into the band room. Tom led her to the doors, pushing one of them open with a hand and stepping out.

They walked to the bathrooms, and Rowan knew that if he hadn't been there, she wouldn't have even been able to stand up. She would've been left lying on the ground back at the stadium with everyone watching.

Ignoring usual etiquette, he went into the girl's bathroom with her. For the first time since the beginning of the day, she saw herself in the mirror. Her face had a stream of blood running down the side, more than likely from where her head had hit the fence.

Turning on the water, Tom got his hands wet and clean. Leaving it running, he wiped the red liquid from her head, and she blushed at the touch of his hand on her cheek. "Does it hurt?"

She shook her head 'No', and let him continue cleaning her up. Rowan wanted to know why he thought she couldn't do it herself, but she chose not to question it. When he reached a particular spot on her head and wiped it clean, it stung like a bee, and the injured musician cringed.

Tom let his blood-covered hand sit under the running water. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She was determined to be tough, she wanted to appear strong. She didn't want him to look down on her; she wanted him to look at her as his physical equivalent. It didn't matter if that was the farthest from reality.

But instead of being rigid, she slid onto the ground, letting the tears fall from her eyes. She was in so much pain at that moment, physically and mentally. She had been perfectly happy, and was having fun down at the field. It all was great until Sarah had pushed her.

And here was Tom, whom she had become infatuated with more than once, helping her after getting injured. When she looked through her tear-filled eyes, she saw the handsome trumpet player squatting down next to her. She couldn't quite pick out his expression, but he looked concerned. "Why didn't you say something?"

She rubbed the tears from her eyes and looked at him directly, her eyes uncertain. "What do you mean?"

"She pushed you. Sarah, I mean," her eyes widened at his statement, and she wondered how he knew. "Why didn't you just say so?"

"How did you—"

He hushed her by raising a hand. "You didn't answer my question."

"She hates me enough as it is."

He sighed, averting her eyes. "Rowan, you know what I'm going to tell you. If you have a problem, you have to let someone know. Whether it's me, Ryles, or—"

The drummer had no interest in discussing what had happened, or why. Especially with Tom, considering that she'd have to explain how the whole thing was about him. "We'll talk about this later, okay? Can we go back to the band room, now?"

Tom blinked a few times, and then came to his senses, clumsily offering a hand out to her. "So, the other day…"

Noting the subject change, Rowan suddenly recalled their unfinished conversation. "That's right," she announced. "What were you saying?"

He smiled at her, glancing away as they walked down the hall to the band room. Until then, she had never given his looks much attention. Instead of letting her mind dwell on it, and risking the possibility of looking like an idiot, she just settled on the fact that he had a lot going for him. "Well," he started, clearing his throat, "I wanted to ask you something. Maybe it's not the right time, since you're a little beat up…"

She shook her head, butterflies suddenly in her stomach. Maybe Ryles had been right about Tom's feelings. He carried on with her accepting silence, "Well… You're really nice, and fun to be around, and you're a lot prettier than I think you realize and, well… would you… consider, ya know, going out with me?"

* * *

_So, we met Sarah. Every band/group of people has one of "those"; the people that just cause problems because they can. This definitely is not going to be her last appearance... Anyways, R&R!_


	4. Chapter 4: Traditions Fading

_Yay! Next chapter! I'm posting the 4th AND 5th chapters today, because chapter 5 is relatively short :)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

The snare drummer couldn't resist it; he had to make sure Rowan was okay. Just as Ryles and Jake made it back to the band room following the end of the water fight, he saw his best friend staring into the green eyes of Tom, with a true smile on her face. _What had happened with them? Did Tom make a move on her?_

He regretted not going with her; for leaving them alone. Ryles sneered, having the urge to punch Tom in the face. Although he had appreciated his company when planning clever schemes, Ryles had a hard time trusting the trumpet player. Long before meeting Tom, the drummer had decided that he could get away with anything as long as his father was the band director, and Ryles didn't appreciate that idea.

"Jealous?" Jake joked, nudging him in the stomach.

He bit his lip as his face flushed. "N-no! I'm just watching over my section. It's obvious he doesn't care about anything but—" Tom kissed her on the cheek, and his heart burned.

Reading the clear expression on his face, Jake went for the bait. "'But', what? Ya know Ryles, you're making a fool out of yourself, acting like this."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The drum major laughed, giving the drummer a light slap on the back. "If you care about her, don't sit here. It's too TV drama-esque."

"Right, because I care about Rowan…?" he said boldly, hoping he hadn't been so obvious.

"You really are an idiot. You never were the type to drop everything for someone, but I've seen you do that dozens of times for her," he pointed out, and Ryles grimaced. "And you've been friends for _how_ long? I'm just saying, she's not waiting on you."

"This conversation is over, Jake," he said flatly, trying to push past him.

"So you're just going to sit and enjoy the show? Have fun with that, Mr. Center Snare. When is it going to be enough for you to just see what you want and get it? You always beat about the bush, never going straight for what you mean, or what you want. Why don't you just—"

"Shut up," he muttered under his breath as he walked out into the band room and approached the couple as though nothing was going on. "Hinds, time to go home."

Immediately at the sound of her name, she broke out of her entranced look, turning away from Tom. "R-Ryles?" she looked between the two boys as she said his name, unable to find a way to word her thoughts.

"The jeep is waiting," he said with a slight wink.

Tom tapped her lightly on the shoulder, "I can take you home, if that's—"

"No, let's go Rowan," Ryles rudely cut him off, as if Tom had been speaking to him, taking a hold of his section mate's arm and pulling her by it. "Thanks for the offer."

"Goodnight, Rowan," Tom called after them, and she turned to smile and wave. Ryles had the inappropriate urge to stop her from turning around, but he was not going to show his current emotion. Every part of him wanted to tear the trumpetist apart piece by piece, and that sort of anger scared him, especially in himself.

"That was rude," Rowan finally stated once they were in the parking lot, alone. He looked away, not sure how to respond. Agitated, she leaned in front of his face. "Why did you do that?"

"I'm tired. I just wanted to go home."

"Tom said he'd—"

Ryles, realizing he was starting to lose his sense to his own feelings, bit his lip, and faked a charming smile. "I know, Hinds, but I've taken you home every day for as long as I can remember. Let's just keep the tradition going for my sake, okay?"

Rowan smiled at his consideration, opening the passenger's door and practically bouncing into her seat. "I just can't wait for this season!"

Her section leader bit his lip, "I can't imagine why." He tried to hide the cynical tone in his comment, and she didn't seem to notice. She had always been the type to be easily excited, and a boy could put her on Cloud 9 for a few weeks. The idea of that disgusted him, and knew it would continue to do so for as long as it lasted.

"You were right about Tom, Ryles," she said brightly, a big grin on her face. He wished she were suggesting to the part where Ryles had absolutely no trust for him, and thought he was a band director's dog.

"Is that so?" he asked as he turned the key in the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot. He felt that it was easier to act like he had no idea what had happened, instead of telling her that he knew, and thought it was a bad idea.

"Yeah!" she said, placing a small hand on his arm. "He asked me out when we were in the band room! That's why he was offering to take me home."

"Oh, so the job comes with the 'Boyfriend' title? Am I not a good enough driver?" he noted, eyeing her cleverly. He had outsmarted her, and they both knew it.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know, I was just teasing you," he said, suddenly realizing that he had forgotten his best friend etiquette. "Anyways, congrats on the Tom thing. Am I invited to the wedding?"

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her seat. "We haven't set the date yet. But I'll let you know." Ryles pulled onto Sherwood Street just as Rowan leaned forward, clicking on the radio. "Oh, I love this song!"

As Ryles stopped the jeep his driveway, which was directly opposite from Rowan's, he took a minute to recognize the voice, chuckling before turning to look at her. "David Archuleta? Hinds, are you serious?"

"Don't be jealous because he can sing better than you!"

"That's not hard to do. Trust me, I'm not jealous," he said jokingly as she turned up the volume. Ryles couldn't begin to count the number of times people had called him jealous in the past day.

"Sure you aren't!" she shifted in her seat to face him. "I can't believe we're seniors. And we start school in like… 3 days!"

He looked at her with tired eyes, nodding along with her. "Way to go on the random subject change, Hinds!"

Rowan's eyes widened at his passiveness. "Are you trying to tell me you haven't thought about it at all?! Seniors, Ryles. Sen-iors!"

"Oh trust me," he spoke through a yawn, "I've thought about it. I'm just not nearly as excited about it as you are."

"Just think. We have less work, senior pictures, our senior prom, and then graduation! It'll have to be a perfect year!" she explained optimistically, but he cringed at the thought of prom. They had gone together junior year, and she was so painfully beautiful that it hurt him to think of the possibility of she and Tom surviving in their relationship until then. And even if that didn't last, she could find someone else.

The click from the lock on the passenger's side broke his thoughts. "I'm going to go try and sleep," she began as she unlocked the jeep door. "I will probably be smiling all night long."

"I bet," he said through gritted teeth as she skipped to her front door. He checked his rearview mirror to make sure she got in safely, and then stared at his clock. _10:00. _He had a little while before his dad would be expecting him to be home, usually because he and Rowan would be out at Applebees for half-price appetizers.

But not anymore, because times were changing, and Ryles had a bad, gut feeling that he was going to be home early for the next couple of months. He shut off his engine, deciding to listen to the radio for at least ten minutes, as the ominous melody of the David Archuleta song played in the back of his mind.

_Why do I keep running from the truth? All I ever think about is you…_

* * *

_Well, I think it goes without saying, but I don't own David Archuleta (as amazing as that "could" be...). _

_Poor little Ryles. He's so violent sometimes, though! I wonder if that ever just freaked Rowan out. haha. Anyways, R&R!_


	5. Chapter 5: Forever

_I like this chapter, even though it's a ton shorter than all of the others, just because you get a little peek into life for the best friends "back in the day" when they were little kids. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

"Hey Ryles, it's okay if Tom sits with us at lunch now, right?" Rowan leaned in her desk so she could lower her voice. Ryles knew the question was innocent, but she had no idea how much it pained him to see her breaking their traditions. It was only the first day of school, but he felt it was the beginning of the end for the classic Ryles and Rowan friendship.

_And why was that?_ Surely, not just over Tom. Surely there had to be something else that was bothering her. _Had they not been hanging out enough?_

"Hinds, do you want to go get something to eat after school?"

She sent him a puzzled look, and he simply ignored the fact that he had blown off her question. "What about our sectional?"

_Right_. He had forgotten he requested to have a drum line sectional after school that day. "Oh, I meant after practice. Sorry," he said convincingly, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

"Well Tom and I were going to go get some pizza, but you can come if you want," she spoke sweetly, as if trying to seduce him into not feeling like a third wheel. Ryles had no intention of being the tag-along, so he shook his head to decline.

"I actually remembered that dad needs me at home tonight. Some repairs in the kitchen, ya know?"

"Some other time, then?"

"Yeah, whenever you aren't busy with Tom or something."

Rowan looked slightly taken back, as if she had offended him. "I didn't mean—"

He took a deep breath, nodding as he reached for the worksheet that was getting passed to him. "I just don't want you to feel like we aren't hanging out enough or something."

Rowan grinned as she looked down to write her name at the top of her paper. "I didn't think a thing of it. So," she said curiously, "you don't mind if Tom's at lunch with us?"

Ryles' jaw nearly dropped. _Was it really that important to her?_ He stared at his paper without the ability to spell his own name. "W-well that's fine except—"

"Miss Hinds, Mr. McAlester," their Trigonometry teacher warned from her desk, pointing to a poster that read 'Please silence your cell phones – and your mouths'. Rowan giggled, sticking her pinky out to him. "Friends forever, right?" she mouthed to him, as a reminder of a promise they had made a long time before.

Although he felt silly to be a senior that still did pinky promises, tradition was tradition. He gratefully wrapped his pinky around hers, "Forever."

"_What do you want for Christmas, Ryles?" Rowan asked playfully as she fell down into the snow and began creating her own snow angel. They were ten, and had been friends for five years, and Ryles had never given her the slightest clue what to get him. She was worried to buy something on her own; she wanted her first gift to him to be absolutely perfect._

"_Why do you want to know so badly? I get plenty of stuff from Dad every year. You don't need to worry about it," he reassured, and she huffed at him, standing up to examine her work. "That's a nice angel. Why don't you name it?"_

"_I don't know what to name an angel," she admitted quietly, interlocking her cold hands together. Ryles pondered for a moment, then looked at her with a friendly smile._

"_Dad always told me that Mom became an angel. You can name her Allsion!" he decided, thrilled with himself for the idea._

"_Allison the angel. I like it," she said agreeably. She was never able to contemplate why Ryles never seemed more distraught about his mother. He spoke of her as though she had never passed away, and sometimes she wondered if he even knew the truth. He and his dad moved after she died, because apparently their old home made Mr. McAlester too sad to bear walking down the street, but she doubted he ever admitted that to his son._

"_Ryles," she began after a much-too-long silence, "after about," she paused to do the math, "1826 days, I can't deal with your generosity. I just want to get you something for Christmas this year. Just tell me what you want. Pleaseeee?"_

_That's when she looked directly at him, her bright blue eyes bore into his brown ones. They were sparked with curiosity but also a hint of bravery and righteousness. The future drummer couldn't move, couldn't talk; it felt like he was going to faint. _

_Despite the chilled weather, drops of sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and his face heated up. The world had indefinitely dissolved and all he saw where those blue orbs. Ryles felt a blush creeping against his cheekbones as she continued to stare at him._

"_I want to be friends forever," he said, smiling._

_She stuck her pinky out to him, "Then let's pinky promise – to be friends forever."_

_He accepted her bare finger, and took it in his own. "Forever."_

* * *

_Aww... how adorable! Rowan has always been a little naive, maybe that's why Ryles likes her so much. Refreshing innocence, perhaps? The next chapter should be up pretty soon; a lotttt of this story is already done, it's just a matter of posting the chapters and not getting too anxious. I honestly had to MAKE myself wait 3 days to post the 4th and 5th chapters. :P_


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